Sometimes, You Don't Hear the Bullet
by Skye Coulson
Summary: Tony learns that he was pregnant when he is shot and his injuries cause him to miscarry. Can Gibbs help him pick up the pieces and return what the senior field agent has lost? SLASH. MPREG. TIBBS.
1. Lose Something You Can't Replace

**Sometimes, You Don't Hear the Bullet**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:  
** As always, I own nothing.

 **Rating:  
** T

 **Genre:  
** Romance/Angst

 **Pairing:  
** Tibbs

 **Lyrics Used:  
** Coldplay - "Fix You"

* * *

When You Lose Something You Can't Replace

* * *

 _When you try your best, but, you don't succeed | When you get what you want, but, not what you need | When you feel so tired, but, you can't sleep | Stuck in reverse | And, the tears come streaming down your face | When you lose something you can't replace | When you love someone, but, it goes to waste | Could it be worse_

 _Lights will guide you home | And ignite your bones | I will try to fix you_

 _Tears stream down your face | When you lose something you cannot replace | Tears stream down your face and I | Tears stream down your face | I promise you I will learn from my mistakes | Tears stream down your face and I_

 _Lights will guide you home | And ignite your bones | I will try to fix you_

* * *

Tony was running like a madman through the streets of DC – Gibbs hot on his heels – as they chased after their latest perp. The kid had just been spotted, shooting up his high school a few blocks away. Several students and faculty members had been seriously injured and a few had had even been killed. However, Tony and Gibbs had been so intent on catching the perp that they had forgotten one of the cardinal rules of foot chases. Always be aware of your surroundings. Neither of them ever heard the shot. But, Gibbs soon felt his blood run cold as the entire world seemed to freeze around him as he watched Tony fall to the ground. Snapping back to his senses, he called McGee and Ziva on the comms as he caught up to Tony – falling to his knees by the man's side. _Ah, no! No, no! No!_ He thought to himself. This could _not_ be happening, right now. It was Kate all over again. Only that it _wasn't_ Kate. It was Tony. Tony DiNozzo. The frustratingly, maddeningly, charming smooth-talker that had unknowingly run off with Gibbs' heart. "Tony." Gibbs called out, cursing the way his voice trembled, slightly. "Tony!" He called out, louder, when he received no response. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called for the ambulance on pure auto-pilot – his conscious mind consumed by the unconscious man that lay bleeding in his arms.

The medics had arrived shortly after Gibbs had placed the call and rather unceremoniously shoved Gibbs out of the way as they began assessing Tony's injuries. They barked orders back and forth between themselves – most of which Gibbs neither heard nor registered. As they loaded Tony into the back of the ambulance, however, Gibbs finally snapped to attention – making it abundantly clear that he would be riding with his senior field agent to the hospital. Fortunately, for Gibbs, these medics had worked with him enough times, before, to know well enough not to argue with the special agent when he set his foot down on something.

* * *

At the hospital, Gibbs was drawing the attention of the rest of his team as he paced around the waiting room. He was trying to be patient – tell himself that Tony would be all right and that DiNozzo was too stubborn to die – but, the fact of the matter was that he didn't honestly know. And, that was what was driving him crazy. Not knowing. The rest of the team was all just as worried about Tony was. Okay, maybe Gibbs worried more. But, that was only because he stood to lose more. Even if the other's didn't know it. But, they were also equally worried about their fearless leader. They'd never seen him so anxious. And, he appreciated their concern for him, but, his mind was more focused on DiNozzo.

* * *

"Good morning, Special Agent DiNozzo." The doctor greeted, offering a small strained smile that did not go unnoticed by the agent in the bed before her. "My name is Dr. Sharpe."

"Give it to me, straight, Doc." Tony groaned, struggling to sit up in the bed. "I can take it."

 _That's doubtful._ The doctor thought to herself, steeling herself for the fall-out of the news she had for her patient. _God, I always_ hate _this part of the job._ "Well, I have good news and I have bad news." She began, trying to keep her tone light for as long as she possibly could. "Which would you like, first?"

 _Uh-oh._ Tony thought to himself, warily. _That can't be good._ "Good news, first, I guess." Tony replied, uncertainly.

The doctor heaved a mental sigh of relief as she spoke. "Well, the good news is that the bullet managed to miss your stomach and your bowels." Dr. Sharpe began, carefully.

"Aaaannnnddddd …" Tony drawled, not sure whether he really wanted to hear the bad news or not. " … What's the bad news?"

Sighing lightly, Dr. Sharpe set her clipboard down as she leaned, gently, against the bed rails on Tony's bed. "I'm _so_ sorry to have to be the one to tell you this." She began, trying to break the news to her patient as gently as she possibly could. "I'm so sorry, Tony … But … I'm afraid the bullet shot through your uterus … We were forced to perform an emergency hysterectomy given that the damage was too severe to be repaired … I'm afraid your baby was also killed, instantly."

Tony's entire world seemed to screech to a halt before crashing down around him. He couldn't even begin to try to even breathe. He couldn't even process what he'd just been told. _I was … I was …_ _ **pregnant**_ _?!_ He thought to himself, in horrified shock and awe. He couldn't believe he'd had the one thing he'd wanted more than anything in his life and it had been stolen from him before he'd ever even known he'd had it.

The doctor had watched Tony's body language change, drastically, when she'd delivered the news of his baby's death. She'd expected a drastic change, but, there was something in the man's non-verbal reaction that she didn't quite recognize. She processed the look over in her mind as horrified realization dawned on her face. "Oh God…" She muttered, in pure shock, leaning against the side of the bed, as she gently laid her hand over Tony's as he clutched at the sheet in mental anguish. "Oh God … You didn't … You didn't know, did you?" She gasped, breathlessly.

"No." Tony managed to choke out around the lump in his throat. "No – I – I didn't." He choked and stammered. "Oh _God_!" He sobbed, feeling the metaphorical dam bursting. "I didn't know!"

"Oh my God." Dr. Sharpe replied, quietly. "Tony, I can't even begin to express how sorry I am." _And, just when I thought my job couldn't get_ _ **any**_ _shittier._ She thought to herself, aching for the pain her patient must have been in.

"How far?" Tony muttered, brokenly, unsure of why he was even asking this question. He didn't see how any good could come of it.

"I'm-I'm sorry?" Dr. Sharpe stuttered, suspecting that she knew what Tony had meant just not wanting to be right.

"How far along was I?" Tony demanded, impatiently. He hated having to prolong this torment.

Dr. Sharpe sighed, reluctantly. She knew that answering the question wouldn't change anything. But, maybe Tony needed to know to find some sort of closure. "About eight weeks." She replied, quietly, as another sob exploded from Tony's chest. "Is there _anything_ I can do for you?" She asked, desperate to do whatever she could to comfort her patient. "Is there anyone I can call? Anyone you want with you, right now?"

Tony didn't even have to think about his answer. "Gi … Gibbs." He choked out. "Agent Gibbs." He added, knowing that – if anyone could understand what he was going through – it was Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The doctor merely nodded, silently, before taking off in search for Agent Gibbs.

* * *

Gibbs immediately halted his pacing as he heard the doctor enter the waiting room. "Agent Gibbs?" She called out, in search of the person that Tony had requested to have with him in his recovery room.

"That's me!" Gibbs replied, eagerly. "I'm Agent Gibbs." He added, desperate to hear the news of Tony's condition.

"My name is Dr. Sharpe." The doctor replied, by way of introduction. "I'll be overseeing Agent DiNozzo's care while he's here."

"Why the hell has this been taking so damn long?!" Gibbs demanded, harshly. Truthfully, he hadn't meant to be so harsh toward the young doctor. He was just scared for his senior field agent and reacted to that fear with anger. Which – if her body language was anything to go by – the doctor seemed to understand.

"I apologize for the wait, Agent Gibbs." The doctor replied, ever the consummate professional. "There were some unanticipated injuries." She began, carefully.

"What kind of 'unanticipated injuries'?" Gibbs demanded, worriedly.

"The bullet fortunately missed all of Tony's primary organs – the liver, the kidneys, the stomach, the bowel, etc …" The doctor elaborated, dreading where she was going, next. "However, the bullet did manage to do extensive damage to Tony's uterus." The horrified look on Gibbs' face spoke volumes as he allowed to the doctor to finish. "Our trauma surgeons tried to reconstruct the damaged organ … Unfortunately, the uterus was too far gone … We were forced to remove the uterus, entirely." She replied, reluctantly. "I'm so sorry, but … But, the baby didn't make it."

Gibbs and the team all stared at the doctor in horror. It was no secret that Tony had been able to conceive and carry a child. But, none of them had known that was pregnant. "The … The baby?" Gibbs questioned, quietly.

"There's more …" The doctor conceded. "But, I feel that Tony should be the one to tell you, himself." She added, gesturing for Gibbs to follow her. "He's asked to see you." She finished as Gibbs numbly followed behind the young doctor until she led him to Tony's recovery room.

* * *

"Did you know Tony was pregnant?" Ziva turned to Abby, questioningly, after Gibbs and the doctor had left.

"No, I had no idea!" The young forensic scientist replied, just as shell-shocked as the rest of her friends.

"I woulda thought – if _anyone_ woulda known – it woulda been Gibbs." McGee replied, staring at the doors that Gibbs and the doctor had passed through mere moments ago. "But, he looked just as shocked as we are.

"How could Tony be pregnant and not tell us?!" Abby wondered, slightly hurt that her dear friend would hide something so life-changing as a baby from them.

"I do not know, Abby." Ziva sighed. "I do not know."

* * *

After the doctor had left Tony and himself alone in the recovery room, Gibbs began to pace, anxiously, as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair – racking his brain for just what to say to Tony. He couldn't believe that his senior field agent would be so reckless. He also couldn't believe that Tony would hide something like a pregnancy from him. There were so many questions that he just didn't have the answers to. "Why?!" Gibbs demanded, harshly. "Why would you pull a stupid-ass stunt like this?! Why would you _knowingly_ put _your own child_ in danger?! Why-"

"I didn't." Tony muttered, so quietly that Gibbs almost didn't hear him.

"Bullshit!" Gibbs spat, rounding on his heel to face him. "Bullshit, Tony! You knew you were pregnant and you still went into that pursuit-"

"I DIDN'T FUCKING _**KNOW**_ , GIBBS!" Tony roared, finally unable to hold it in, any longer. "I didn't know." He repeated, notably quieter.

Gibbs just stared at his SFA in pure and utter shock. He'd never heard Tony raise his voice to him in such a manner. The look on his face and the sheer, raw, emotion in his reaction told Gibbs that Tony was telling the truth. He really _hadn't_ know that he'd been pregnant. That realization stabbed through his chest painfully. He couldn't believe he'd been so insensitive. Tony had just suffered the pain of losing a child – a pain that Gibbs, himself, knew all too well – and, here, he was basically accusing Tony of killing his own unborn baby. Furious with himself, he slapped the back of his own head harder than he'd ever slapped anyone. _Fucking bastard._ He thought to himself, angrily, as he calmly and carefully approached Tony's bedside. Reaching out, he laid a tentative hand over Tony's – fighting like hell to hold back the wince as Tony jerked away as if he'd been bitten. Sighing heavily, Gibbs replied. "Tony, I … I don't even know how to _begin_ to tell you how sorry I am." Listening to the older man, Tony knew he was being sincere. And, he appreciated the rare violation of rule number six. "That was completely uncalled for and I was a complete and utter bastard to assume that you would do something so reckless."

"You _know_ me, Gibbs." Tony replied, desperately. "You _know_ that – if I had _known_ that I was pregnant, I would have told you and I would have stayed the hell out of a situation like that pursuit." He reasoned, frustratedly. "I would never _knowingly_ do _**anything**_ to jeopardize my own _**child**_!"

"I know." Gibbs breathed, gently. "I know you wouldn't. And, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt – let you explain your side."

A moment of tense silence stretched between the two agents before Tony spoke again – his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Two months."

Gibbs nearly had to strain to hear the broken whisper and when he had, he couldn't quite understand what Tony'd meant by it. "I'm sorry?"

"I was two months pregnant." Tony repeated, his voice slightly louder. "That is, before that fucking monster stole my baby from me!"

Gibbs ached to comfort his senior field agent in whatever way possible. He hated seeing the man that he loved in such agony. Finally, he carefully a hand out to Tony's shoulder – relieve when the younger man leaned into him – as he wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulder, leaning against the side of the bed to support the awkward position. "Don't worry, Tony." Gibbs assured the younger man, gently. "We're gonna nail the bastard."

Tony appreciated the sentiment. Nailing his shooter to the wall might not bring his child back. But, it would help Tony sleep better, at night, to know that the bastard wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else. "Thanks Gibbs."

Nodding, silently, another realization hit Gibbs. "Tony … Do you want me to call Mark for you?" He asked. Gibbs knew that Mark Strahm was Tony's life partner and the father of the child that Tony had just lost. "I think he-"

"He doesn't need to know." Tony muttered, bitterly. "We broke up a week ago."

"What?" Gibbs was dumbfounded. "What happened?"

"Pretty simple, really." Tony replied, numbly. "I wanted kids … He didn't."

Gibbs nodded, in understanding. He knew that argument far too well. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"I just never expected to go through somethin' like this alone." Tony muttered, his voice full of the despair that he'd felt since he'd learned that the child that he'd never known he'd had was dead.

"You are not alone, Tony." Gibbs replied, fervently. "You never have to be alone, Tony … Not as long as I'm still around."

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
** Well, I hope you've all enjoyed this opening chapter. Next chapter, we get to see Gibbs lose his shit in the interrogation! Should be fun! Don't forget to drop me a review!

~Skye Coulson


	2. A Taste In My Mouth I Never Had Before

**Sometimes, You Don't Hear the Bullet**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:  
** You know the drill … I own nothing!

 **Rating:  
** T

 **Genre:  
** Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Family

 **Pairing:  
** Tibbs

 **Lyrics Used:  
** Marion Raven - "Heads Will Roll"

* * *

There's A Taste In My Mouth That I Never Had Before

* * *

 _There's a taste in my mouth that I never had before | To be a cheater, defeater, are things I won't ignore | Like a rat in a trap, your head got in the way | Nothing left of you but a memory of a bad lay_

 _Heads gonna roll (Heads gonna roll) | I'm back in control (back in control) | It's a jungle out there, it's gonna eat you up | And strip you – bare | I'll swallow you whole (swallow you whole) | Then, spit out your soul (spit out your soul) | I wanna make this clear, my dear, that head will roll_

 _There's a look in your eyes am I the one you dread | You make me wonder what's going on inside your head | (Inside your head) | You lie and you slither like a cold-blooded snake | I'll make you pay for your big mistake_

* * *

"That was Ziva." Gibbs spoke, closing his cellphone to return it to his pocket, using his free hand to stroke Tony's hair comfortingly. "She and McGee are heading back to Navy Yard to check on the suspect."

"You should go with them." Tony replied, quietly, leaning into the older man's gentle touch.

"You sure?" Gibbs asked, carefully. As much as he wanted to sink his teeth into the son of a bitch … _And maybe a bullet or two …_ He didn't want to leave Tony alone, to deal with his loss. "I'm sure McGee or Ziva could handle the interrogation if you want me to stay with you."

"'S okay, Boss." Tony reassured his team leader. As much as he wanted the older man there with him, he knew nobody would be able to make the bastard pay for what he'd done to Tony quite like the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs. "I'll be fine as long as you nail the bastard."

Gibbs nodded, understandingly. Although he couldn't fully appreciate Tony's exact situation – he'd at least been given the chance to know his sweet, beautiful daughter, Kelly – but, Tony'd been denied that chance. But, Gibbs knew the pain of losing a child and wanting revenge. "Okay." Gibbs replied, gently. "Abby's in the waiting room … Would you like me to send her in?"

Even though Tony knew he'd have some explaining to do, he also knew he really didn't want to be alone. And, the young forensic scientist's chipper outlook might be just what he needed to get him through the darkness he felt so lost in. "Sure." Tony replied, the faintest traces of a smile ghosting his lips.

* * *

Abby Sciuto had been pacing, anxiously, around the waiting room for what felt like forever when Gibbs finally emerged from Tony's recovery room. "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" She greeted him, anxiously. "How is he? Is Tony okay? Well, of course he's not okay! He just lost his baby! Did he say why he didn't tell us about the baby?! Did he-"

"Abby!" Gibbs interjected, effectively silencing the young scientist. "Tony's fine. Or at least as close to fine as someone in his position _can_ be." He added, once he had Abby's full attention. "As for why he never told us about the baby …" He trailed off, sighing lightly. "I think ya better let him tell ya that, himself." He finished, cryptically, gesturing toward Tony's room. "Oh, and Abby." He called over his shoulder as she paused on her journey toward the recovery room, turning to face Gibbs. Turning to face Abby, he added "Go easy on him … He needs a friend, right now."

Abby nodded, understandingly "I will, Gibbs." She half-smiled as she turned to resume her journey. Satisfied, Gibbs turned to leave, eager to tear into his suspect.

* * *

"How is Tony holding up?" Ziva asked, the concern for her friend and partner evident in her voice, as Gibbs walked into the observation room – watching the suspect as he sat in the interrogation room, awaiting his questioning.

"As well as can be expected." Gibbs grunted, staring at the suspect, his venomous anger evident in his stare.

"Did he say why he never mentioned the baby?" McGee asked, carefully, unsure of whether to voice the question or not.

"He did." Gibbs replied, vaguely. A tense and anxious silence fell over the small group as McGee and Ziva eagerly awaited the explanation.

"Well?" Ziva prompted, eagerly, unable to stand the suspense, any longer. "What did he say?"

"'S not for me to tell." Gibbs spoke, simply. Sure, he could have told the team that Tony'd never even known he was pregnant. But, he figured he should respect the man's privacy. He deserved a little time to process everything in his own time and space and Gibbs knew that – when he was ready – that Tony would tell everyone what had happened, himself. In the meantime, it wasn't his story to tell.

"Boss?" McGee questioned, carefully. None of them had ever seen the look of pure, unadulterated, rage on their boss's face nor had they ever heard it in his voice. The way he was behaving was unlike anything they'd ever noticed in the man, before, and – quite honestly – it scared the living hell out of them.

"McGee." Gibbs deliberately kept his voice deadly calm – saving his rage for the man that had shot Tony. "Tony will tell you everything, himself, _when he is ready_." He elaborated, firmly. "Until then, I suggest we all just back off and give him some space." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the observation room – reappearing in the interrogation room.

"I would _not_ wanna be that guy, right now." McGee observed, almost sympathizing with the suspect. Almost. But, the man had shot – and tried to kill – one of their own. And, he _had_ succeeded in murdering an innocent unborn child. _That son of a bitch_ deserves _to incur the wrath of Gibbs._ McGee thought to himself, angrily.

"Nor would I." Ziva agreed, her arms folded, crossly over her chest, as she watched the interrogation unfold.

* * *

Gibbs walked into the interrogation room, calmly, lulling the suspect into a false sense of security. _This is gonna be a piece of cake._ He thought to himself, sitting back in his chair, cockily, until the agent slammed a folder down on the desk – loudly – though, he never said a word. Taking the seat across the table, Gibbs remained silent as he opened the file, spreading photos from the street as well as some he recognized as being taken at a hospital. The commonality in the photos was the cop he'd shot, earlier, in the day. Looking from the photos, back up to the agent, the suspect couldn't help feeling uneasy about the whole situation. The agent's silence was unsettling to say the least. And, the venomous glare … If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under, already.

Staring straight into the eyes of the man that he'd known – damn well – shot Tony, Gibbs took a sick satisfaction in watching the man visibly squirm under his stare. He watched as the man looked from the photos back up to him and back again, several times.

Finally, the man before him couldn't take it anymore. "What do you want from me?!" He demanded, trying to sound calm, cool, and collected. Though, he suspected the agent could hear the fear and the dread in his voice.

Gibbs just gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head, lightly – which only served to further intimidate his suspect. _This guy's a certifiable lunatic._ He thought to himself, terrified of what the agent might do to him. "What do I want from you?" Gibbs repeated, his unsettling smile dripping in venom. "What I want …" He continued, dropping his voice to a deadly whisper. "…is for you to see what you did … What you destroyed …" He added, shoving the hospital photos in the man's face. "Do you know what that is?!" He snarled, leaning forward until he was just inches from the man's face. "Hm?! Do you?!"

"N-No-" The suspect stammered, only to be cut off by another angry outburst.

"THAT IS A PHOTO OF THE **_EIGHT-WEEK-OLD UNBORN BABY_** THAT YOU _MURDERED_!" Gibbs roared, slamming the photo down on the table with a loud, resounding _SMACK_ – which caused even McGee and Ziva to jump in response as they were joined by their director in the observation room – before gripping the underside of the table with his left hand and flipping it across the room – clanging loudly as it smacked against the door – before gripping either arm rests in each hand in a death grip, getting right in the man's face as he snarled. "I'm gonna make sure they hang you out to _dry_ , you sick son of a-"

* * *

Having seen quite enough from his watching place next to McGee and Ziva, Director Leon Vance stormed out of the observation room and into the interrogation room just as Gibbs had wrapped a hand around the suspect's throat – thoroughly enjoying the sounds the man made as he gagged and choked and struggled to breathe. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gibbs knew he should have been disturbed by the amount of satisfaction was taking in strangling the man before him. But, he had hurt the man that Gibbs loved and murdered Tony's unborn baby. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was too mad as hell to care about the fact that he was committing a murder all his own. "Agent Gibbs!" Vance barked, snapping the special agent out of his fury-induced trance. "Outside. _Now_!" The director ordered, his voice clearly indicating that he was _not_ kidding and leaving no room for argument.

Shaking himself out of his trance, horror spread over Gibbs' face as he realized what he'd been doing. Stepping away from the shooter and toward Vance, he looked at the director with apologetic horror written in his steely blue eyes. "Director, I-"

"Save it." Vance replied, his voice notably more gentle – indicating that he understood where the agent was coming from. "Don't worry about me …" He added, pulling Gibbs aside, out in the hall as he waved Ziva into the interrogation room. "Look, I get why you reacted the way that you did." Vance conceded, quietly, as they watched the door close behind Ziva. "On a personal level, I gotta say … You did what every single one of us _wants_ to do to that bastard …" The director admitted, with a small, evil half-smile. "But, on a professional level, I cannot allow you to continue with this interrogation-"

"Director, please." Gibbs all but begged. "Look, I admit I lost it in there, but, ya gotta give me another chance!" He added, desperately. "I know I can get him-"

"What I _gotta do_ …" Vance interjected, firmly. "…is think about what's best for my agents." He elaborated, completing his thought. "And, that means _all_ of them." Taking the special agent's confused countenance as a cue to elaborate, Vance continued. "Get outta here …" He spoke, gently, nodding his head in the direction of the exit. "Go be with Tony." He added. Leon was one of the few people that Gibbs considered a close friend and when he'd learned of Gibbs' feelings for Tony, Gibbs trusted him to keep them between the two of them. "God knows I can't even begin to _imagine_ what that man has to be going through … But, I _do_ know that he needs you, right now." The director elaborated, sincerely. "He needs you now, more than ever."

Sighing heavily, Gibbs knew Vance was right. Deep down, he really wanted to be there for Tony. Running a hand through his hair, he just nodded his reluctant agreement. "Yeah … Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Leon."

"Don't mention it." Leon half-smiled, watching Gibbs take off toward the exit. "Give Tony my best." He added, more to himself than to the special agent's retreating form.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
** As always, please read and review! :D I hope you're all enjoying _reading_ this story as much as I'm loving _writing_ it!

~Skye Coulson


	3. I Will Fight Your Fight

**Sometimes, You Don't Hear the Bullet**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:  
** You know the drill … I own nothing.

 **Rating:  
** T

 **Genre:  
** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

 **Pairing:  
** Tibbs

 **Lyrics Used:  
** Rascal Flatts - "I Won't Let Go"  
ACDC - "Hell's Bells"

* * *

I Will Fight Your Fight

* * *

 _It's like a storm | That cuts a path | It breaks your will | Yeah, it feels like that_

 _You think you're lost | But, you're not lost on your own | You're not alone_

 _I will stand by you | I will help you through | When you've done all you can do | If you can't cope | I will dry your eyes | I will fight your fight | I will hold you tight | And, I won't let go_

 _And, I won't let you fall | Don't be afraid to fall | I'm right here to catch you | I won't let you down | It won't get you down | You're gonna make it | Yeah, I know you can make it_

* * *

Walking back into Tony's hospital room, he couldn't help feeling as though he'd failed the younger man. He'd promised to make the bastard who'd shot him pay for what he'd stolen from Tony. And, he'd failed. But, he just put on the best front that he could muster as he'd walked into the room, seeing Tony and Abby preparing for Tony's discharge. "Hey Gibbs!" Abby greeted, warmly, turning to face the older man as he'd entered the room.

"That was fast." Tony commented, noticing that Gibbs hadn't been gone nearly as long as he'd expected him to be. "Did he crack, already?" He joked, though, his smile soon faded as he saw the older man's face fall at his comment. "Gibbs?" He called, gently, his concern for his friend clearly evident in his voice. "Gibbs, is everything okay?"

Abby could also sense that something was wrong and – if the looks exchanged by the two men in the room with her were any indication – she sensed that they might want to discuss it in private. "I'm just gonna go check with the doctor … or … somebody … before we take you home." She offered, lamely, making an awkward exit.

Once Abby had left the room, Tony moved across the small room toward the older man. Lightly gripping the older agent's forearms in his hands, Tony asked again. "Gibbs … What's goin' on? … What's wrong?"

Tony's voice was so warm and gentle and downright comforting that – as much as Gibbs didn't want to admit his failure to the man that had unknowingly stolen his heart – he couldn't help but comply. "Tony, I … I'm so sorry." He offered, lamely.

"Isn't that a violation of rule number six?" Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Though, he could sense his attempt at levity wasn't working.

"Tony, please." Gibbs replied, still searching for what he needed to say. "I tried to crack the shooter, but…" Sighing, Gibbs turned out of Tony's light grip as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "…but, well … I let my emotions get the better of me." He finally conceded on an angry sigh.

Tony desperately hoped that didn't mean what he thought it meant. "You didn't kill him, did you?" He asked, only half-joking.

Gibbs, however, remained silent for a long, tense, moment, before turning back around to face Tony as he replied "Almost." Tony's blood ran cold at the absolute dead-serious tone in the voice the silver fox that had unknowingly stolen his heart. "I had my hand around the bastard's throat when Vance threw me out of the interrogation and Ziva in my place."

"Jethro." Tony replied, not even realizing the use of the older man's familiar name as he reached out and grabbed the older man's hands in his own. "It's okay. Believe me, I get it. I probably wouldn't have handled the interrogation any better, if I'd been in your shoes." He offered, trying to comfort the other man in any way that he could.

Tony's reassurance was comforting, though – on some level – he didn't feel like he deserved it. And, he fought with everything he had to ignore the butterflies fluttering uncontrollably in his stomach at Tony's use of his familiar name. "Tony, don't you get it?" He pleaded, desperately. "I _promised_ you I would make the son of a bitch pay and I **_failed_**!"

"No, Jethro." Tony insisted, gently. " _You_ don't understand. I don't _care_ if **you** are the one who makes him pay … or if it's Ziva … or Tim … I don't **care**!" He elaborated, vehemently. "All I care about is that he's never allowed to hurt anyone ever again! So – as long as you didn't let him go _free_ … You _haven't failed_!"

Gibbs couldn't believe how incredibly understanding Tony was being about this whole thing. Staring into the younger man's brilliant emerald green orbs, Jethro fought like hell against the tears threatening to fall as he gave in to his urge to gather the younger man into his arms as he held onto him as if his life depended on it.

Tony gratefully accepted the warm embrace. He held onto the older man as if he'd fall apart if he let go. And, maybe he would. He didn't honestly know. Tony knew he hadn't fully stabilized himself, emotionally, yet. He wasn't even sure how long it would be before he _was_ back to normal. But, he knew – as long as he had Leroy Jethro Gibbs in his life – he'd be okay.

* * *

 _I'm rolling thunder pouring rain | I'm coming on like a hurricane | My lightning's flashing across the sky | You're only young but you're gonna die | I won't take no prisoners won't spare no lives | Nobody's putting up a fight | I got my bell I'm gonna take you to hell | I'm gonna get ya Satan get ya_

 _Hell's bells | Hell's bells, you got me ringing | Hell's bells, my temperature's high | Hell's bells_

 _Hell's bells, Satan's coming to you | Hell's bells, he's ringing them now_

 _Those hell's bells, the temperature's high | Hell's bells, across the sky | Hell's bells, they're taking you down | Hell's bells, they're dragging you under | Hell's bells, gonna split the night | Hell's bells, there's no way to fight_

 _Hell's bells_

* * *

Agent Ziva David strode into the interrogation room silently as she calmly replaced the table back to its original position – along with the chair – before claiming the seat previously occupied by her team leader. As she sat down, she pulled the knife out of her belt as she began playing with it – casually twirling it between the fingers of her right hand – as she used her left hand to flip through the case file in front of her.

"I suppose you're here to kill me, too?" The suspect quipped, trying to hide his fear as he eyed the knife in her hand, carefully.

"No, I am not." Ziva replied, off-handedly – never bothering to take her eyes off the case file in front of her as she spoke. "You see, mister … Dalton … If I kill you …" She taunted, switching to filing her nails with the blade of the knife. "…Then, I cannot find out who you are working for." She explained, casually.

"What makes you think I'm working for anyone?" Grant Dalton replied, cockily.

"Oh, it is pretty simple." Ziva sighed, lightly, finally sparing a glance at her perp as she finally looked away from the file in front of her. "I can see by your history and your training that you are the muscle of your operation. Nothing more." She surmised, coolly.

"Listen, here, you little-" The perp snapped, slapping his hands down on the table. In the same instant – not missing a beat – Ziva jumped out of her seat, as well – stabbing her knife into the table, right in between two of the perp's widespread fingers, narrowly avoiding stabbing his hand.

"No." Ziva hissed, venomously. " _You_ listen here, you worthless little sack of shit." She spat, angrily. "You are responsible for the death of innocent unborn child! The _only_ chance you have of surviving your prison sentence is to tell us everything that you know! I want the name of the person you are working for!" The agent demanded, releasing the grip on the handle of the her knife to push a legal pad and a pen toward her perp. "If you do that, we can protect you in your cell – **if** the information you provide proves to be of some use to us." She offered, reluctantly, knowing that she had to do whatever it took to get the necessary information out of him. "If you do not … we will throw your sorry ass to the wolves and leave you to **_rot_**!" She hissed.

Staring at the knife standing erect between his fingers, Grant Dalton knew that this was game over. He knew that he would not fare well in a prison once the rest of his cell block figured out what he was in for. Sinking back down into his seat, he knew what he had to do. Silently retrieving the legal pad and pen, he wrote down the name and phone number and all the other information he had on his employer. Once he'd finished writing, Ziva stared at the name – her face giving away nothing of the horrified recognition that washed over her as she realized that she knew it to be the name of Tony's own lover, Mark Strahm – as she ripped the top sheet off of the pad and crossed the room to knock on the door. As the door opened, she passed the paper off to McGee who immediately took off to verify the usefulness of the information the perp had provided.

Closing the door, once more, Ziva returned to her seat as she stared – silently – into the eyes of the man sitting across from her. Though her face remained stoic, she was inwardly enjoying watching the man visibly squirm under her gaze. Finally, when he was unable to take the silent stare, any longer, Grant Dalton spoke. "Damn it, I told you what you want to know!" He snapped. "What more do you want from me?!"

"Well, mister Dalton…" Ziva drawled, out, slowly. "You only gave us half of the puzzle." She countered, casually. "You have only told us who you are working for. … What we would like to know, now … is _why_ he hired you."

Sighing, Dalton leaned back in his chair. "All he said was … if he couldn't have him … Nobody was going to."

There was no doubt in Ziva's mind as to who 'him' was. But, she needed as much information she could get if they were going to make the charges against Mark Strahm stick. "And, who – exactly – are the 'hims' to which you are referring?" She inquired, carefully.

"The guy who hired me." Dalton confirmed. "Said his name was Mark Strahm. He said his 'partner' – whatever the hell, _that_ means – dumped him." He added, trying to recall the exchange. "He was real pissed about it, too. Like I said … he told me if he couldn't have him, nobody would." He offered, by way of explanation.

"So, your orders were to kill Agent DiNozzo?" Ziva questioned to confirm her suspicions.

"Yeah." Dalton confirmed. "But, something went wrong with the gun – kicked in a way it never has before – and I missed my shot."

Ziva fought with everything she had to keep herself from ripping the man's throat out, on the spot for that remark. "I see." She hissed, making notes of everything that the perp was telling her. Passing the pad and the pen back to Dalton. "I am going to need you to write all of that down. Everything. Every word that was exchanged between you and Strahm. You are to leave out _nothing_. I want every single detail – I do not care how insignificant it may seem to you."

"Aw, man …" Dalton whined. "That's gonna take forever."

"Then, I suggest you get started." Came Ziva's clipped response as she left the room to rejoin Vance in the observation room.

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Ziva asked, stunned by what Dalton had told her.

Watching Dalton writing out his confession, Leon Vance replied "I always knew there was something I didn't like about that asshole." He observed, recalling his initial impression of Strahm when Tony had first introduced him into their lives. "Never liked him one damn bit … 'Course I always just thought I was just biased and wanted DiNozzo to get together with Gibbs."

Sighing sadly, Ziva crossed her arms over her chest. "I wanted that, too." It was clear to everyone – that is, everyone except for Gibbs and Tony – that the two agents were obviously in love with one another. They'd all been shocked when Tony had started dating Mark. "I think we all secretly wished that they would end up together."

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', David?" Leon questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

"If you are thinking that I want to hang this son of a bitch out to dry…" Ziva began, angrily. "Then, yes. I am thinking _exactly_ what you are thinking." She finished, staring at the man finishing his confession in the interrogation room. Watching his agent leave the observation room, Director Leon Vance watched as she stalked back into the interrogation room – not unlike a lioness stalking her prey, he noted.

* * *

Taking the pad and pen from Dalton, Ziva read over the confession in her hands before wordlessly turning and heading for the door before Dalton spoke again, causing her to turn back around to face him, once more. "Hey … Hey, I did what you said … Y-y-you're gonna protect me, right?!" He asked, anxiously. "I did what you said!"

Ziva considered her options and decided to return to her original plan to just walk out of the door without a word. And, she'd almost made it when Dalton called out, again. "Hey! You said you'd protect me-"

"I said that we _could_!" Ziva hissed, whirling around to face Dalton. "I did not say that we _would_!" And, having said her piece, Ziva whirled back around to stalk out of the interrogation room despite the desperate pleas from inside.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
** I hope you all enjoyed this little installment. Don't worry, more Tibbs action to come! Don't forget to drop me a review!

~Skye Coulson


End file.
